


The root of all evil

by Katze_North



Category: The Lone Ranger (2013), Мастер и Маргарита - Михаил Булгаков | The Master and Margarita - Mikhail Bulgakov
Genre: Crossover, Gen, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-02
Updated: 2019-12-02
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:48:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21639847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katze_North/pseuds/Katze_North
Summary: Butch Cavendish might not be exactly who he seems to be.
Kudos: 1





	The root of all evil

A bullet pierced train car crashed straight into the freight car at full speed, breaking it in two like an empty egg-shell. Captain Fuller was left lying on the high slope like a broken doll. Only John Reid managed to get off the train going straight to Hell by some miracle. At least he thought it was a miracle.  
The wrecked and battered train car sped forward, becoming less and less real. A dark figure lying on the floor suddenly stirred and got up with ease, dusting glass shards as well as a now unnecessary illusion off himself. A well-groomed hand shook the railway engine soot off a snow-white shirt collar with a careless gesture and smoothed out long salt-and-pepper hair. The snake rattle – a ridiculous trophy of human vanity – fell off.  
Butch Cavendish, better known as a demon of the desert Azazel, bared his teeth in a wicked grin. His smile was quite scary even without the now vanished hideous scar. Even if said smile seemed more than a little nervous right now.  
– Women and their silly hysterics! – snarled Butch, baring his teeth as if he had an unbearable toothache. – Thanks a lot for a task where I had to chase another skirt! Let Behemoth deal with it next time!  
Damn that Cole, could he be more stupid!? So you sold your soul for a handful of silver! Take it, own it and be glad you have it! But no, he also wanted to get himself a wife, just to be more presentable. That’s when it all started going sour: do this, get that, tear a rival’s heart out – make sure it’s a heart, not a spleen! Oh and kill said rival’s brother who just happened to come back at the wrong time, while you’re at it, and don’t forget to check that the tough bastard really kicked the bucket this time. What was the purpose of it all? To get a silly woman with a duck’s face and a harpy’s – well-deserving of such an admirer then! - temper. Make it happen right here and now, or the client’s will get angry and kick you a few times in the ribs, if you please! Who did the old fool think he was, some damn genie out of a bottle!?  
The train car slowed down little by little, then stopped. Butch stepped down onto a platform carved from stone with a clink of a silver spur, dismissing the transport that served its final purpose with a wave of his hand. The train car started moving again and disappeared in the nearest fire fissure with a loud crack, surrounded by a cloud of sparks and steam.  
– Welcome home, Azazello, – the demon-page meeting him bent down in a respectful bow, his eyes betraying a sly smirk. You rascal. Butch grabbed the young page by the scruff of his neck and gave him a good shake.  
– Don’t you dare mock me, or I’ll rip your tail off.  
Behemoth, ever the slippery bastard, twisted out of his grip with cat-like ease and jumped back, laughing:  
– You want to eat my tail now? You’ve become quite a gourmet, my friend.  
Butch turned away with a scowl. Why on Earth did he agree to play the role of a demon assassin when their master was looking for new recruits? He would be better off forever lost and forgotten in the desert. At least he wouldn’t have to babysit neither fools willing to sell their worthless souls, nor their obnoxious love interests!


End file.
